


The Long Hallway

by Sly_Helador



Series: Sly's writing class [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-02-01 07:42:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21443449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sly_Helador/pseuds/Sly_Helador
Summary: An irrational fear of doctors turns this check-up into a nightmare.
Series: Sly's writing class [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1469705
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	The Long Hallway

The glass door in front of her lead to a warmly lit room with a few people sitting about. They all swiftly turn their heads at the door opening but turn back uninterested. They all sit waiting for their turn to go to the back of the building and be evaluated and receive their a-okays. Doctor’s offices tend to be an easy place for everyone. 

“Camille, right? Here for your yearly check-up?” asks the woman behind the front desk. 

“Yes. I’m here a little early, if that’s okay,” Camille answers back. She holds herself tight, arms surrounding her body and head leaned down slightly. She’s had an irrational fear of the doctor’s office since she was a young girl and it never left her even after years of adulthood. 

The woman, with lips as bright red as blood, smiles condescendingly at her. “Of course dear that’s fine. We actually have an opening now so we will be able to take you back shortly. You can have a seat anywhere.” 

Camille went to a seat near the entrance to wait. Time always seemed to come to a standstill while at the office. Minutes passed as slow as hours, days even. She looked back to the lady behind the desk. The room behind was lit darker than the waiting room and the woman had her back turned. She looked to be in the middle of motioning towards something. 

“Camille, we are ready for you now,” says a tall man in scrubs at the door to the rest of the building. He wields a clipboard and has glasses hanging from a chain around his neck almost like a noose. 

Camille rises up and moves to follow him. The wind howls behind her from outside the windows. She looks back once more to the outside before the door slams to lock her in. Already without the natural light the hallway seems dimmer and grimier. The only thing down the hallway are sets of doors and assorted medical equipment. 

He leads her down the hall without stopping or even looking back to reassure her. His stance is loose and open with steps sure. The only thing that stands out about him is that his hands keep clenching and unclenching around the clipboard in his grasp. 

As they walk the only thing that she can hear are slight whispers coming from under the doors next to them. One behind them opens with a creak and another doctor, smaller than the one leading her but otherwise eerily similar, saunters out. No one else, not another nurse or even a patient leaves the room with him. 

The farther down the hallway they walk the darker the walls seem to become. An overhead light above flickers a couple times a second and leaves a small portion of the hallway in mostly shade. There also seems to be dust bunnies, or something similar, floating near the floor and clinging to the bottom of the doors. They speed away as the slight breeze from her steps upsets their stillness. Even though the doctor leading her is much larger and heavier than she is and steps without fear lightening his steps, the bunnies do not even brush away from him. They only agitate at her steps. 

Then at the end of the long, musty hallway is a final door. It looks identical to all the other ones in this hallway but that the doctor stops in front of it signifies that it must be their stop. 

Once Camille catches up to his pace and also stops in front of the last door, the doctor finally turns to her. “This is the room that you will stay in. Please wait for a nurse to come in and conduct your check-up,” he says. He then opens the door and turns away to walk back down the hallway. She spares him one last look, noticing that he is no longer fidgeting with the clipboard, and slowly moves into the room. 

It looks just like all other medical rooms she’s ever been in. Lit too bright and reeking of bleach and water. She goes to sit on one of the chairs on the far side of the small room when she notices one thing out of place- a case of syringes, all full but one. Red liquid.

Perhaps blood.


End file.
